Retaliation
by GateKeeperSyn
Summary: Dean Ambrose has been mistreated by WWE Creative ever since the Shield broke up. Now he must decide what to do about his future. Take a look inside of his mind as Dean struggles to figure out how to change things for the better in his own special way. One-Shot Fic. Rated for language.


_Dean Ambrose is_ not _a fucking midcard,_ Dean thought to himself. Yet, ever since Creative had broken up the Shield, Dean had been treated as nothing but talent enhancement. Hell, he even "enhanced" his former partner, Seth Rollins. Dean loved Colby Lopez like a brother, but he was _really_ starting to hate fucking Seth Rollins. As far as Dean was concerned, Seth and Colby were two different people, and while Colby could beat half the guys in WWE blindfolded with his mad ninja skills, Seth needed to cheat, and that was what he did every fucking time.

Every opportunity Dean had was taken away from him. He'd lost the United States Championship in an insanely unfair match shortly after the Shield turned face. Creative had done nothing but shit on the title ever since. More recently, Dean had been given a few chances at the Intercontinental title. He liked the idea of winning that one, but they'd given it to Daniel Bryan instead. To make it a bigger slap in the face, Bryan had gotten hurt again immediately after that, and yet again right after becoming a champion, he was out with a potentially career-ending injury. He knew it was wrong, but he hoped Bryan stayed gone this time. He was a nice enough guy most of the time, but his cult of goat worshippers had made him think he was entitled to shit. Like, "Hey, I'm here, give me a title, bitches!" It really made him seem like a little prick sometimes. Marrying that Bella slut had really changed the guy and while Dean had once tried to protect him from bigger superstars and poorly planned Authority segments, now he just wanted to hit him with Dirty Deeds and call it a night.

Maybe it was on him. Maybe if he could train harder, he'd make it. All he had to do was keep working at it. He'd finally be good enough. They'd finally respect him.

So he trained, and he trained, and he trained some more. He perfected his skill set. He worked on promos until he could talk trash with the best of them. His promos hadn't needed any work. That part came naturally to him, but he worked on them anyway. He talked trash in his sleep. He helped Joe, ther precious Roman Reigns, work on his promos, too, because even though Joe was his competition, and even though Joe had gotten the push Dean believed _he_ deserved, he loved the guy. It wasn't Joe's fault he was born into wrestling royalty. It wasn't like he'd asked for that body or that hair. The guy was lucky and had a million things going for him in the business, but Dean would never claim Joe didn't work hard for it. Joe didn't want everything handed to him. He wanted to prove himself, just like Dean did.

So he quit blaming Joe for stealing his shot, and he worked even harder. Any chance Dean had, he showed them what he could do. He beat the crap out of every guy they put him in the ring with. Sure, he usually had to job in the end, but he never went down without one hell of a fight. He fought hurt, even when he thought he couldn't stand back up. He nearly broke his leg in a ladder match, but he'd still walked out of the ring. Sure, he was limping and dragging his leg, but he went out on his terms.

Dean Ambrose was one tough, crazy son of a bitch. No one disputed that. The fans loved him. _No_ one was more over. Not Colby. Not Joe. Not Bryan or Cena or any of them. The fans wanted Dean Ambrose. Creative, however, was another story. They continued to bury him, making him job to every Tom, Dick, and Wyatt they could think of. Week after week, Triple H told him, "I'm sorry, we don't have anything for you right now, but something big's coming soon! But here, I booked you in (insert crap jobber match of the week) to tide you over. Great, right? Keep up the good work, Kid!"

After over a year of this, Dean had had enough. He was facing Kane tonight, and he was supposed to job. Instead, when Kane went to chokeslam him into oblivion, Dean dodged him and threw him off balance. He proceeded to slam Kane into the ringpost and then hit him with the original Dirty Deeds. Kane didn't move as Dean covered him. The ref counted to three. The fans were cheering wildly.

just as Dean was about to be announced the winner, Triple H and Stephanie came marching out. Triple H stepped into the ring to confront him.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" He whispered harshly. To the ref, he said, "Referee, I demand you restart this match!"

Dean looked at Triple H and grabbed the microphone from him. "Nope," he said. "I'm sorry, I don't have anything for you right now, but something big's coming soon! But here's something to tide you over." Dean punched him hard in the face. "Great, right? Keep up the good work, old man!"

Dean was about to step out of the ring when Stephanie stopped him. "Dean Ambrose, your behavior is... is... _unacceptable_! In fact, Dean, you're fi-"

"Dean Ambrose is dead," Dean cut her off. "It's _Moxley,_ bitch!" He pulled out a fork and raised it in the air before declaring, "And I _quit,_ mother fuckers!"

He threw the microphone at her feet. Then he hesitated at the shocked look on her face and picked it back up. "Oh, I'm sorry... That wasn't PG, was it? My bad!" He then threw the microphone sideways and hit Stephanie McMahon with the new Dirty Deeds.

To the sound of the shocked cheers of his fans and the tears of his more obsessed fangirls, Jon Moxley walked out of the WWE ring for the last time and allowed his self-respect to return to him.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:** _I wrote this one-shot because like everyone else, I think Dean deserves better, and I wonder if he thinks so, too. I hope you enjoyed reading it and taking a peak inside of his mind. I appreciate any reviews!_


End file.
